


Safe With You

by IronWoman359



Series: IronWoman359's Bad Things Happen Bingo [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Knight Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, M/M, On the Run, Prince Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Prompt: On the Run
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:00:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24274708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronWoman359/pseuds/IronWoman359
Summary: Prince Roman gains a new appreciation for his personal knight when he is forced into hiding to escape an assassination attempt.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders
Series: IronWoman359's Bad Things Happen Bingo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1746898
Comments: 15
Kudos: 191
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	Safe With You

Roman had never been so exhausted in his life. His feet were sore, his muscles ached, and there was nothing he wanted more than to collapse into his feather bed and sleep for a day. No wait, a massage from the royal masseuse to ease his muscle tension. No, a massage _then_ sleep for a day. 

Yes, that would be the dream. 

Unfortunately, Roman’s life had been more akin to a nightmare these past few days. He was a prince, for crying out loud, heir to the throne itself! And now he was being forced to sneak through the woods in the middle of the night like...like some common ruffian! 

“You said we’d be reaching real lodgings soon!” he whined. His mother would say that his tone of voice was “unbefitting of a prince,” but he felt that after three days of sleeping rough with no one but his irksome personal knight for company, he was entitled to a bit of complaining. Speaking of his knight...

“We will, _highness_.” Roman could never figure out how the formal address managed to sound so insulting when Sir Virgil Ellsworth said it. “We should reach it before daybreak, so long as you do not slow us down with any more of your griping.” 

Roman made a petulant noise (that his mother would also not have approved of), but Virgil just rolled his eyes and pressed onwards, slipping through the foliage with the ease of a practiced woodsman. Roman stumbled along clumsily behind him, trying to resist the urge to _gripe_ (he was a prince, he did not _gripe_...he loudly protested) about the terrain.

He managed this for approximately three minutes, which he thought was a rather impressive effort, giving the circumstances. 

“If your plan was to hide out at an inn then I don’t see why we had to trek through the undergrowth like this. Would it not have been simpler to take the roads? You do know what _roads_ are, don’t you Sir Ellsworth?” 

“You do know what caution is, don’t you highness?” Virgil retorted. “By all means, take the roads, if you want to be caught by the assassins in less than a day.” 

Roman opened his mouth to argue back, but Virgil shut him up with a scathing glare. 

“I know you’re used to being the one to boss people around, Princey, but we’re not in the palace any longer. It’s my job to keep you alive, and out here, what I say goes. Got that?” 

He turned around without waiting for an answer, a breach of protocol that ordinarily would land him in serious trouble, but even Roman had to admit that the systems of etiquette and protocol that he was used to didn’t matter much in the middle of a coup. And as much as Roman had whined and complained (and alright, _griped_ ) about their traveling conditions, underneath his brash facade he was just glad that Virgil had remained loyal to him, even after the people who paid his salary had been run through by assassins’ blades. 

Not that he’d ever admit that out loud to his knight of course. 

“Okay, we’re almost there,” Virgil said, pulling Roman out of his musings. “Keep your head down, and let me do the talking.”

Roman glowered at him, but he pulled the hood of his travelling cloak up to obscure his face and followed Virgil without further complaint. Roman wasn’t sure how Virgil knew where they were, the woods all looked the same to him, but one minute they were surrounded by trees and the next they were stepping onto a dirt road that led into a tiny village. Virgil kept glancing around as they approached a building that Roman would call quaint if he wanted to be kind...ramshackle if he was feeling more irritable, which tonight he was. 

“You’re sure this is an inn?” 

“What part of _keep your voice down_ is confusing you?” Virgil hissed with perhaps a touch more venom in his voice than was typical, and Roman blinked.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” he muttered, folding his arms with a huff. 

Virgil sighed and shook his head, then stepped forward and nudged the door open a crack, peering inside. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he pushed the door open properly and gestured for Roman to follow him inside.

Roman didn’t have much experience with inns, on the rare occasion that he had to travel his entourage would usually solicit the hospitality of a local noble family, so he had no idea if the cramped space was typical of this more...rustic establishment. Still, the room was cleaner than he’d expected; the stone floor was swept, the worn wooden tables were wiped down, and a pleasant, homey smell wafted through the air. It wasn’t hard to imagine the room full of peasants after a hard day's work, enjoying hearty food and drink to forget their hardships for a few hours. 

For now though, the room sat empty, save for one man who was hunched over the fireplace, stirring something in an iron pot. He spun around when he heard the door close behind them, and his eyes widened behind a pair of round glasses. 

“Oh! I wasn’t expecting customers this early in the morning, I–” 

“Pat, it’s me.”

The man froze. 

“Virgil?” he asked, and Virgil nodded. “Oh my– what are you doing here? When I heard about the capital, I was afraid that–”

“I need your help,” Virgil interrupted, and the man nodded. 

“Of course, whatever you need!.”

“A room? And off the books, Patton, nobody can know we’re here.”

Patton’s eyes flickered to Roman for a moment before looking back to Virgil with a firm nod. 

“Of course, of course. This way.”

He led Virgil and Roman up a staircase and down a hall, ushering them into a room. 

“It’s not much, but it’s yours for as long as you need it. And once I’m done opening things up downstairs I’ll come up and bring you some porridge, you kiddos must be hungry.”

“I can pay you,” Virgil began, but Patton shook his head. 

“Keep your money. I have a feeling you’ll be needing it more than me anyhow. Just stay safe for me, okay?” 

Virgil nodded. “Thank you.” 

Patton smiled at him, then with one last glance at Roman, slipped out of the room and back downstairs. Virgil shut the door behind him, then quickly crossed the room and closed the shutters as well, blocking out the first few rays of morning sunlight. 

“Okay,” he said, a bit of tension finally leaving his shoulders. “We should be okay to rest here for a bit. 

Roman looked around the room, and tried not to grimace. It was tiny, barely big enough to comfortably fit the single bed, wooden chair, and side table. No wardrobe, no desk, no vanity, and no lavatory. Still, at least there was a bed. No matter how lumpy the mattress might be, it was sure to be more comfortable than the forest floor. 

“Will this suffice for you, then?” Virgil asked, raising an eyebrow, and Roman sighed.

“It will have to do, I suppose,” he said, and Virgil rolled his eyes. 

“It better, because this is the only inn this side of the capital that won’t sell us out at the first flash of some coin.”

“So that innkeeper, you trust him then?” 

“With my life,” Virgil responded immediately, and Roman blinked. 

“Well alright then,” he muttered. He looked around the room, then frowned as one particular detail stuck out to him. “There’s only one bed.” 

“It’s a roadside inn, Princey, it doesn’t exactly have suites.” 

“I know, I wasn’t exactly expecting the lap of luxury here, but–”

“Relax,” Virgil interrupted. He pulled off his cloak and bunched it into a ball before stretching out on the floor and stuffing it under his head. “I’m all good, see? No need to worry about sharing your bed with the measly common folk.” 

“I’m aware you’re making fun of me,” Roman grumbled, and Virgil laughed. 

“Good, I’d be worried if that was lost on you.”

“You think just because the world is collapsing around us that you can mistreat me so? I am still your prince.” 

Virgil gave him an unimpressed look, and Roman swallowed, suddenly cognizant of the fact that the only reason he was still alive was because of Virgil’s interference. He’d taken it for granted, Virgil was his knight, after all, it was his _job_ to protect him, but when the rest of the palace had fallen, there would have been nothing stopping Virgil from giving Roman up to save his own skin. Instead, Virgil had taken him to safety, and Roman felt his face warm in shame.

“I apologize,” he said quietly, looking down. “That was...not a very chivalrous remark. I do recognize that it is only because of you that I am even alive, let alone a prince, and...I am grateful for that.” 

He glanced up, just in time to see a strange expression flicker across Virgil’s face for just a moment before his familiar smirk was back. 

“Alright, Princey, don’t get sappy on me now,” he said, and Roman let himself smirk back. 

“Just covering my bases here, I can’t exactly have rumors start spreading that the prince of the land doesn’t appreciate when someone saves his life.” 

“Go to sleep, highness, your precious reputation is safe with me,” Virgil snickered, closing his eyes. 

Roman chuckled, but as he lay back on the lumpy mattress, he didn’t miss the way Virgil’s hand drifted to rest on the hilt of his sword, or how he adjusted his position so that his body lay across the doorframe, one final barrier between Roman and any threat that might dare to enter. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, letting his own eyes slip closed. “I know I’m safe with you.”


End file.
